Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovakia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Lightning Bolt,
Monolake,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Slackers,
The Zeros,
10cc,
Sex Pistols,
Boredoms,
The Residents,
Bad Manners,
Infiniti,
Eden Ahbez,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pulsallama,
Boz Scaggs,
Oblivians,
Harry Pussy,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Osbourne,
June Days,
Suicide,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Monochrome Set,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Wyatt,
Max Romeo,
Soft Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Scrapy,
The Raincoats,
Althea and Donna,
Banda Bassotti,
F. McDonald,
U.S. Maple,
The Misunderstood,
Sister Nancy,
E-Dancer,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shoche,
Marine Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nirvana,
The Blues Magoos,
Magazine,
Little Man,
Joy Division,
Arcadia,
Bob Dylan,
Radiohead,
Pagans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Swell Maps,
Matthew Halsall,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.